


Chained to Indigo

by Zandpapier



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), Red is a mean boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-08 07:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandpapier/pseuds/Zandpapier
Summary: Decisions made in the past can form chains that won't be shaken off so easily in the future. Lance wants out of the Indigo League, but can't seem to find the chance.Written for a prompt challenge- 'The Burden of Leadership'.





	1. Chapter 1

Being a champion really isn't all that it's chalked up to be.

Lance had never even wanted to be a champion in the first place… He was just some kid that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time-or as far as anybody else was concerned, the right place at the right time. Being positioned on the border between Kanto and Johto, Blackthorn was the first city to be attacked when Kanto turned on Johto. It had been easy enough to convince the invaders that they weren't loyal to Johto, hell they hardly knew the league members of Johto anyway, it wasn't that much of a betrayal when they were so far removed from the rest of the region. Lance had spearheaded the effort, agreeing to join Kanto's forces to seal the deal. He was among the strongest and didn't have the same ties to the area that the others did.

Had it been worth it though..? Blackthorn was saved from enduring the level of casualties that the majority of Johto and Kanto had, yet his family and the city elders refused to speak with him for years after the fact. Building a gym in the city had been seen as a 'gift' to the city following Kanto's victory over Johto, yet Clair's succession to gym leader had not been taken so well. The Dragon's Den had been hoping to groom her into the next master, a position that had once been held for Lance himself before his 'betrayal', and now they were stuck with poor prospects. Clair was hardly suitable to be a gym leader anyway, the piles of paperwork and complaints left on his desk was enough proof of that. If she wanted to become the next Master all she had to do was find a successor and sign a few papers, yet he was getting the blame for forcing her to be there.

But Arceus, the paperwork… There sure weren't any stellar rumours about that aspect of the job. What happened to being a strong protector of the region, patrolling cities and taking down troublemakers? He couldn't imagine how Cynthia and Alder made time for patrolling their respective regions so often. No doubt it was simpler to look after a single region, but for Diantha to manage full-time work as an actress on top of league responsibilities..?

He was stuck doing overtime again tonight, signing off on event plans, deliveries for badges and potions, inductions for new gym trainers, challenges for the title of champion… The complaints pile was stacked particularly high again today, half of them probably for and about Giovanni and his antics. If only the guy was still around to deal with them himself. Leader of a crime organisation or no, Giovanni the gym leader was one of the easiest people to work with out of the bunch. The odd complaint about him being absent from the gym of course, but given the strength of his gym trainers there was rarely anybody taking notice. It seemed to make more sense in retrospect-there mustn't have been any complaints about Team Rocket and other petty criminals around Viridian City because of Giovanni's presence deterring them.

It almost felt like a loss…

He takes a sheet from the top of the complaints pile, finding himself faced with mockery. 'How come Lance, the champion and war hero, dragon prodigy from ancient Blackthorn, was unable to stop Team Rocket, but a no-name child from a backwater town could take them down single-handedly?'

"How indeed," he mutters to himself, folding the paper and putting it aside. "Must be easy to be a hero without desk work getting in the way."

If his memory was correct, the boy had been one of Oak's kids from Pallet town. Complaining to the professor about the workload had been a happy accident in the end, he had started encouraging young trainers to take the league challenge almost immediately. The sooner he could get a replacement for this nightmare of a job, the sooner he could take after Steven and Cynthia to experience the wonders of foreign regions. He'd heard rumours of Steven wanting to retire almost immediately after earning his spot at the top of Hoenn and he certainly couldn't blame the guy. Steven actually had a hobby to pursue too… Had he ever had such a thing? Being pushed into training with the elders from such a young age had kept him from exploring anything beyond meditation and battling with dragons.

He picks up another complaint letter, bemoaning the lack of a gym leader in Viridian city, but finds himself struggling to focus on the contents beyond the first few lines. Steven liked collecting rare minerals… Cynthia was enthused by myths and legends… Diantha seemed to enjoy acting despite it being framed as a second job… Alder..? Travelling perhaps?

Maybe he'd ask one of the Elite Four members for advice. Agatha is a bit bizarre but she must have enough life experience to give him some sort of direction… Bruno didn't seem to like him enough to talk to him beyond what was required for work.

"Lorelei maybe…"

"Oho, thinking about me so late into the night?"

Speak of the devil. The air seems to grow colder as Lorelei walks into his office, a lingering layer of frost sparkling across her clothes and hair. He was almost grateful for the company… But she had come bearing a fresh batch of paperwork.

"A waking nightmare, the usual," Lance chuckles, wincing dramatically as the paper hit his desk. "You're still battling at this hour?"

She glanced across the desk, one hand on a jutted hip as she brushed off frost with the other. "We've got a promising challenger, his request for a title match is in that pile of joy there. He's pretty antsy so the sooner the better-there are rumours that his rival is making his way here with haste and I don't want to deal with children running rampant."

"The Rocket kid..?"

Lorelei takes a seat on the edge of the desk, pulling a square of cloth from seemingly nowhere and cleaning the lenses of her glasses.

"Oak's grandson actually. Not having to take down a gang of criminals gave him a head start over the golden boy of Kanto, hm?"

Lance clicks his tongue, earning a grimace from Lorelei. As if she wasn't forming puddles across his desk… He flicks through the newly presented pages until he reaches the familiar red edge of a challenge request form. He grimaces.

"I had forgotten how young they are... I'm sure being bested by a 10 year old will be the icing on the cake that is my reputation these days."

He gets a chuckle in reply.

"The council probably won't let me quit anyway, I'll be forced into joining the Elite Four no doubt. Maybe I could convince them to let me take over Blackthorn instead."

"You're asking for more family troubles, Lance?" Lorelei looks down at him almost pityingly. He had divulged his situation with her on a drunken night mere months ago, prompted by her own complaints about the rumoured Rocket activity across the Orange Islands sending drama her way. It had been nice to finally get something off his chest without having to worry about the media catching on and blowing it out of proportion for another easy headline.

"If I irked my dear cousin enough she might just fly in to swipe the title from me and give me the opportunity to take the gym, a decent plan wouldn't you say?"

"The Oak kid might manage that himself if you give him the time of day," Lorelei hums, flicking through the top layer of complaint forms with apparent amusement. "You ought to run for Mt. Silver as soon as the kid and his team are registered, that way the council won't be able to force you to finish these stacks off. Imagine how delighted a 10 year old would be in the face of all this profanity and malice."

"Oh, sure, send the dragon trainer up to one of the coldest places in the region," Lance laughs, feeling himself relax ever so slightly into his chair. "I can't imagine that going sour, can you?"

"Keep whining and I'll lock you in Icefall Cave for a week, see how you and your oversized snakes like that as your first vacation. You'll be begging to be back at your desk in minutes!"

Their laughter is cut short by brisk knocking at the door, a flustered Bruno rushing in before either occupant has a chance to speak up. He nods towards Lorelei quickly before focusing in on Lance.

"Will is back again."

Lorelei smirks, focusing intently on the complaint letter in her hand. "Here for a second round, is he?"

Bruno glares at her, eyes flashing dangerously.

"He still wants a spot. Says Agatha has one foot in the grave anyway. Claims he 'saw' her death coming tonight."

"I'm sure that's not all he saw coming tonig-"

"Lorelei, I swear to-"

"Enough," Lance stands, levelling a glare at Bruno and Lorelei in turn, shaking his head. "Enough… You know where to take things if you want to fight and it certainly isn't here."

Bruno flinches, shifting his gaze to the floor in a brief show of shame. Lance returns to his seat, closing his eyes and sighing.

"Sorry, I'm letting everything get to me lately… Has anybody spoken to Agatha about this? I don't have the authority to replace League members of my own volition. Does the council know..?"

"Will did last time. Talk to Agatha, that is. She seemed okay with it." Bruno pauses. When Lance opens his eyes again he catches him staring at Lorelei, confused. "I don't know about the Council..?"

"Oh, of course they know. They're not interested in anybody who doesn't have champion potential right now though." Lorelei sighs, casting a sympathetic look at Lance.

"He has champion potential."

"You only think that because he beats you so soundly, and that's just because of his team's type advantage," Lorelei chuckles. "He probably wants Agatha gone in particular because he struggles against her the most."

There's a moment of tense quiet. Bruno seems oddly worked up over this, and Arceus knows Lance doesn't want to be involved in a fist fight with a man like Bruno. He turns attention back to the challenge request form, breaking the silence when he chooses to sign his assent. Bruno looks over, nodding in understanding.

"He's good, that kid."

"Mmhm, very… So, was Will wanting to lose against my superior team again or was he just here to see his favourite?"

Bruno glowers at Lorelei, stalking out of the room as quickly as he came.

"Hmhm, sounds like favouritism!"

Lance chuckles wearily, returning to the pile of complaints. Perhaps it wasn't so bad...

"So... Why exactly were you whispering my name to yourself when I came in?"


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the praise Lorelei and Bruno had given Blue the night prior, Lance wasn’t remotely prepared to watch his Pokemon fall. 

The young boy has an unusual air of cockiness when he enters the arena, not at all deterred by the audience towering above them. If anything he seems to revel in the attention, grinning as the crowd cheers him on. The viewing stands had been filling out for every showing of late, but the grandson of the famous Professor Oak has brought in enough people to completely fill the stands. If not his coworkers’ words of praise, such attention and excitement should have properly clued him in on what he was facing… Perhaps he was still a cocky brat himself.

Blue had managed to piece together a full team of disparate typings, an impressive feat that could no doubt be chalked up to his opportunity to explore Kanto for his pokedex quest. Multi-type teams were all the rage lately, but to see such a range of types thriving under one trainer was astounding. What little free time Lance had salvaged over the past few years had been dedicated to learning how to train other types, their unique training and care needs as well as their temperaments and battle styles. In that time he had become accustomed enough to flying, rock, and water types to train strong new additions to his team… But this boy had managed to train Pokemon of 8 typings into fearsome battlers in a far shorter time frame.

The difference in ability was made immediately apparent with a showdown between their two Gyarados. Despite sharing identical techniques, Blue’s Gyarados was superior even at a glance--thicker, shinier scales with far fewer cuts and dents, huge honed teeth and a ferocity in its eyes that Lance’s Gyarados didn’t share. They were a violent, intimidating species by nature, but it’s clear which of the draconic serpents holds the most battle experience. A Pokemon raised by and for league battlers was far too sheltered, often too weak to compete on the same level as a well-fought member of its species from outside the plateau. Blue’s Gyarados is notably taller than Lance’s too, towering clear over its competition.  
How he wishes he could use his personal team… Alas, he is confined as much by league regulation as he is by the very walls of the place. He has no choice but to watch his Gyarados fall, bitten and constricted into submission with brutal efficiency. 

Knowing that the boy could have used Exeggutor to counter his Gyarados with greater ease felt like salt rubbed into the wound. Blue was making a show of his superiority for the crowd, and he can hear how much they love it.

The jeering isn’t making his successive losses any easier to handle.

His Pokemon are all hitting the floor, they’re all bruised and bleeding and crying out. They’re young and they haven’t lost like this before.

They’re confused.

They’re scared.

Noise is filling his head. Blood rushing and heart pounding and screaming and yelling and roaring and pained cries.

Bunching the thick cloth of his cape in fists growing slick with sweat, he forces air into his lungs.

In… Out……… In.. Out………….... In--

His throat is contracting again. 

Aerodactyl is falling. 

He needs to send out Dragonair, but his hands are fumbling at his belt.

Pidgeot’s screaming cry assault his ears. His hand slips.

A ball falls to the ground and his vision swims with bright red and--

“You’ve got this, snake boy!”

His vision snaps back into focus just as his second Dragonair darts towards its foe, blocking an aerial assault by slamming into the raptor that had been diving towards him. Lance stumbles back, a lump rising in his throat and his eyes stinging. He stares at the boy opposite him, catching a fleeting glimpse of confused concern before smug satisfaction takes over again.

Pidgeot strikes again, wings moving too quickly to follow.

Dragonair was already down, and he didn’t have a chance to command him at all.

Breathe...

Dragonite was the last Pokemon left.

What was the point? The kid still had a full team of Pokemon on hand… Most were injured but there was no chance of Dragonite being able to handle an untouched Charizard and Alakazam. He stares blankly, eyes taking in nothing as his thoughts race. This is a good thing, right? He could finally get out of here… Such a shamefully resounding defeat, with so many people watching… The council probably wouldn’t even ask him to stay, would they? This was ideal.

So why is his chest so tight? Why is panic coursing through him, a fear for his own life surging with every shaky breath?

He feels like he’s dying, bleeding out from long-healed wounds.

Evidently only the physical ones had closed up.

He didn’t need this right now. Too many people watching. Losing was fine but being branded crazed or broken would haunt him far worse. He needs to wrap this up quickly.

Breathe, Lance...

“You snoozing old man?”

Blue is frowning at him, head cocked to the side. Pidgeot was no longer flying but still eyeing him closely, stood to attention. The ruffled scarlet feathers of its breast only add to the intimidation factor. 

Lance pauses for another moment, gazing up at the sky. Might as well cast aside the last shards of his pride… Breathing in deeply, he returns his gaze to Blue and plasters his brightest smile across his face.

“Blue Oak, you’re a truly powerful trainer!”

Confusion.  
The audience has grown silent, but he manages to make out a faint sigh.

“Your Pokemon have responded to your strong and upstanding nature. As a trainer, you will continue to grow strong with your Pokemon.”

Dawning realisation.  
The crowd is stirring, bitter sounds of anger and disappointment rising.

“Woah hold up, you still have Dra--”

“It’s an odd feeling. I’m not angry that I lost. In fact, I feel…”

Fear..? Anger..? The young boy’s face is twisting between negatives. His Pidgeot spreads its wings, agitated.  
Cussing and dissent drown out the laugh that burst forth from his chest. He throws his head back again, revelling in the mess for just a moment.

“I feel happy! Happy that I witnessed the rise of a great new champion,” He turns his back on Blue, confused and shaken. “You will be escorted to the Hall of Fame for registration when your Pokemon are healed. Until then, kid!”

He all but runs away, disappearing into the dark underpass below the stands. He’s legs are working on auto-pilot, adrenaline from panic and excitement alike swimming through him. He needs to get back to his office before he crashes. He needs quiet.

\- - - 

Someone is knocking at his door almost as soon as his heart is steady, breathing no longer ragged. It’s a soft pair of knocks, so it can only be Lorelei.

He unlocks the door, letting her in with no more than a nod as a greeting. They stand in silence for a while, red eyes reading his face with an ease that makes him utterly uncomfortable.

“You’ve worked through it?”

“Just about.”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair and taking a seat at her usual spot on the desk. Following suit, Lance slouches back into his seat.

“Dare I ask about your timing? It’s frightening.”

“We’ve worked together for years now, fool,” Lorelei’s voice is devoid of humour today, almost cold. The same tone she uses against her opponents. “I’ve figured out your patterns by now.”

He hums, a flat noise, as he gazes down at his hands. Still trembling.

“One of the councilmen caught me on the way out of the stands. He’s about as impressed as you’d imagine.”

He hums again. She sighs again, tapping a brisk rhythm against the desktop.

“You’ve made your decision and acted, so you better carry through with it properly. Don’t drag the kid down with you, hm? He’s rightfully shocked at how sore of a loser you are.”

“I didn’t much fancy watching another Pokemon hit the floor if I could help it,” he pauses, interlocks his fingers and furrowing his brow. “Where is he now?”

“Last I heard he’s in the lobby with that Warren kid, the current stand-in for first. They’re ready for the Hall of Fame registration, as are Agatha and Bruno. If you feel up to it I can go and collect everyone--”

The door is pushed open, an aged man stalking in. 

“Lorelei,” he greets, tone light despite the deep-set scowl. Civility is cast aside as he turns. “You.”

“Chairman Oleander,” Lance mutters, too drained to return the bitter stare with one of his own. “Here to tell me off again? I’ve brought such terrible shame upon you all, after all. You were right all along, I never learn.”

“Mind your mouth, brat. Attitude won’t help you get your way,” Oleander smirks, folding his arms behind his back. “Not that you’re going to get your way regardless.”

Lorelei turns to face away from them both, staring at the framed painting on the wall. They both expected this much to happen, but the atmosphere is heavy all the same.

“Effective immediately, you will be fourth. That Viridian boy and his ilk are somehow even poorer performers than the rest of you, so we’re casting them off. Lorelei, you will replace them as first.”

“Thrilling.”

Oleander’s lip twitches but he doesn’t retort, maintaining his focus on Lance.

“The Oak boy needs to be trained. Stop wasting everyone’s time and get to it.”

Lance nods, a curt motion but it seems satisfactory enough to send the old man on his way. With a tut of course, and the door left wide open.

They sit in silence a while longer before Lorelei turns to face him.

“Should I tell Warren to head back to Viridian, or would you like to tell him yourself?”

“It’s your call, I’m not the boss around here anymore,” Lance stands, stretching. “Not that I was anything more than a figurehead in the first place. Have I ever made a decision for myself around here?”

“Hmmm… I do believe you decided your order when we last visited the bar?” Lorelei feigns deep thought, tapping her chin. “Then again, that might have been me.”

Lance chuckles, shaking his head. “Not even my own drinks, huh?”

“You can decide which hobbies you’re most interested in pursuing,” she proposes, joining him on the way out of his office. “If you’re not quick about it the council might decide that for you too.”

“Maybe I’ll giving knitting a shot, make myself some fancy scarves for my escape to Mt. Silver?”

Lorelei laughs, the usual brightness returning to her eyes. She shakes her head, heading left down the hallway. “Chairwoman Lantana knits, you don’t want to give her an excuse to follow you around with those needles.”

He shivers as he laughs, the image of the towering woman positively unpleasant. She was a frightening figure as far as everyone was concerned, bar Bruno perhaps. He was still bitter that some crone from Unova had more sway over the direction of the regions he supposedly lead, but they all knew the tales of her… ‘Antics’ with an infamous pair of knitting needles. To attract her attention would be unwise if not dangerous.

“I’ll try and think of something else by the time we’re all gathered in the Hall then,” he calls after Lorelei, figure disappearing around a corner. A short hum of agreement, the clacking of heels fading down the hall, and he finds himself alone with his thoughts again. He had meant to thank her for calling out to him during the match… Perhaps he would buy her a drink after the proceedings.

He doesn’t want to face Blue, but he has no choice.

No choice… Typical.

He chews at his lower lip as he turns right down the hall, zoning out yet again. Blue is just a child, he reminds himself. There’s nothing to worry about, his Pokemon will be in their pokeballs the whole time. Just a child…. Just a child... 

He bumps into someone, too deep in his thoughts to notice that he wasn’t alone anymore. He frowns.

“Another kid, huh… What are you doing here, are you looking for someone?”

He doesn’t get a reply, but the kid does look up to meet his gaze. Lance wished he didn’t.

Purest, deepest black. The kid’s eyes seem to bore into him, his face unreadable and… Worryingly pale. The shadows under his eyes were unhealthy prominent, especially for one so young. He looks like the kind of child Agatha would describe in her bizarre stories, his appearance almost ghostly. Lance bends down to match the kid’s level, reaching a hand out to touch the boy’s shoulder.

“You okay, kid? You don’t look so well--”

His wrist is caught in a vice-grip, nails digging into the thin skin of his wrist. The kid’s expression doesn’t falter, still eerily blank. Still silent. Lance yanks his hand away, frowning at the harsh red marks on his skin. He stands, making to walk past this… Devil child… But he’s caught again. Thankfully by the cuff of his shirt this time, but it gets to him all the same. He pulls back again, turning to snap.

“What do you want, kid? I have shit to do, so hurry it up!”

The kid is holding a sheet of paper in one hand, held out towards him. A familiar red edge.

A challenge request.

He stares, the scrawled name at the top making his stomach drop.

“Battle with me, champion Lance.”

Red.


	3. Chapter 3

Blue had been reigning champion for two hours at most before Red seized the title from him.

It was hardly surprising, this was the child that single-handedly took down Team Rocket in their own headquarters after all. An acclaimed prodigy, hot topic for the whole region, mysterious in his near-constant silence and fearsome to behold despite his youth.

Lance didn’t take the loss very well. Again. At least this time he wasn’t battling as the champion, so there wasn’t an audience to watch his hands trembling. If Red had noticed then he hadn’t bothered to react, maintaining his usual blank expression. Such persistent impassivity put the elders of the Dragon’s Den to shame. 

It was unnerving.

His Pokemon were ruthless, not even Blue’s team could hold a candle to them. They were all savage, brimming with power that Lance’s league team couldn’t dream of matching. Even the small Pikachu… Especially the small Pikachu…

Its eyes were as void-black and devoid of feeling as Red’s. A fitting partner.

Lance hadn’t bothered to congratulate Red on his victory, it was the expected outcome after all. He wouldn’t have had the chance given how quickly they left the room anyway. He was just another stepping stone on the path to champion.

On the plus side it had given him a chance to slip out of the Plateau, taking the chance to wander around a vacant Route 23. The usual badge guards had abandoned their stations, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of Kanto’s golden boy in person. The badge checkpoints had been locked down in their absence, but it would be no trouble for him to fly over--he’d figured they would be closed off and brought Altaria along to bypass them.

The small island of sand between the fifth and sixth checkpoints was clear and quiet as expected, the gentle rippling of water and occasional evening birdsong chasing away the silence. The light was starting to fade, sky cast alight in warm orange and faint violet. If not for the onset chill typical of Kanto nights, it would be perfect. He would stay for an hour or two, that should be enough time to recharge.

He lies down to rest against the sand, eyes closed as he lets his mind wander to better times. He thinks back to nights spent by the Lake of Rage, moments of peace amidst a dour campaign. The way the light had scattered across the lake’s surface, a bright glitter that faded into warm streaks of red and orange. How the light had bounced against the near daily rainfall, shining like tiny stars. At times Gyarados had appeared, rising tall from beneath the glassy surface, uncharacteristically serene as they gazed up at the sky. Such moments had inspired him to raise one of his own, a wish that had been granted by a local fisherman turned friend.

Perhaps he should have brought his Gyarados along too.

The shallows around the island probably wouldn’t contain him though. It was deep and spacious enough for smaller fish Pokemon and the odd Kingler or Slowbro, but not much else… He had heard rumours of Seadra being spotted on rainy days but the notion seemed ridiculous--they were exclusively saltwater Pokemon if his cousin was to be believed. If he was to be proven wrong he might try raising one himself, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Clair’s Kingdra was beautiful and deadly, magnificent to watch in battle. Not that he would ever admit as much--Clair’s ego was troublesome enough to endure without compliments stoking its flames. It was a wonder that he ever managed to match her passion in his youth.

He didn’t notice that Altaria was singing until he caught himself drifting off, the slowly dropping temperature and sweet lullaby tempting him into sleep. He opens his eyes, gazing up at plumes of soft downy feathers. He should thank Steven again for introducing him to such a beautiful creature. It had been far too long since he met with his fellow champion, the latter over occupied with his duties and travels. He sighs.

There are too many people he needs to thank… Steven, Cynthia, and Alder… Drake and Drayden… Lorelei…  
He hasn’t seen Lorelei since the meeting in the Hall of Fame, didn’t even get a chance to speak to her before she ran off to wherever she’s hiding. Red must have battled against her too if he had the chance to fight Blue, so surely she’s somewhere in the Plateau. Unless she had the same idea as him and ran off during the fanfare?

He huffs a small laugh. Hopefully she wasn’t expecting him atop Mt. Silver.

Altaria stops singing abruptly, gaze darting in the direction of the Plateau. Lance makes out the faint sound of wings flapping in the new quiet, slowly growing louder and closer. Following Altaria’s line of sight, Lance spots a silhouette he recognises immediately as that of a Pidgeot.

Blue maybe..? He pushes himself up onto his feet, shielding his eyes against the last of the sun’s rays.

“Altaria, try calling to it.”

He does so immediately, a loud, sharp trill that stings his ears but immediately catches the target’s attention. For a moment there’s no change in flight path, the silhouette steadily flying towards and seemingly past them. But the silhouette shifts ever so slightly, and there’s a notable increase in speed as the grand raptor begins descending. He makes out a wild mop of brown hair, confirming his suspicions.

He was expecting the characteristic attitude and a snarky jab, not hiccuping sobs and an accusatory glare. Altaria immediately steps forward and coats the boy in a feathery embrace, giving Lance the opportunity to collect his thoughts. Pidgeot is staring him down, stood to attention and unmoving. It was regarding him as a threat for some reason, despite the distance between the two trainers. Something was amiss… But he couldn’t think of anything he did that would warrant their anger.

Blue is half-heartedly struggling against Altaria’s preening, sobs drowned out by insistent chirps and hums. Lance shuffles his feet and runs a hand through his hair. He called the kid down here so he had to deal with it, awkward or no.

“What happened?”

He doesn’t get a reply, so he takes a seat on the sand and stares out at the water as he waits for Blue to calm down enough to talk. This whole interaction is probably going to take a while... 

“Red.”

Lance nods and hums, mulling over sympathies and consolations in his head. How is he supposed to comfort this kid? He can hardly manage his own emotions, let alone Blue’s. If anything he had taken his own loss worse that this, and he had been graced with a warning before it hit him.

Blue manages to break free from Altaria’s hold and drops down next to Lance, face swollen and red. He’s not shaking through sobs anymore but he’s still crying, breaths rough and unsteady.

“I hate him. Why did you let him beat me so soon?”

He furrows his brow. How is it his fault..? 

“I don’t have any power over these things,” He murmurs, shuffling a hand into the sand below. “Try losing to two brats in a single day, that’s rough.”

“You’re a champion, you have the most power…”

Lance scoffs. Naive.

“Ice said you wanted to lose anyway,” Blue continues, voice weak and just above a whisper. “Did I only win because you wanted to lose? Am I just… Bad at all this? No wonder he beats me every time...”

Of course Lorelei had to go and tell the kid… Is that why he glared at him earlier? As if he didn’t have enough on his plate without kids doubting his intentions.

“I still have my pride kid, I wasn’t going to lay down and let you take the title without earning it. You’re strong. You need to be strong if you want any chance of dealing with the council cronies, I wouldn’t throw you in the deep end like that.”

“Oleander and the others?”

Blue frowns and furrows his brow when Lance nods.

“They’re old and stupid and mean,” Blue grumbles, nodding a little and rubbing at his eyes. “They were being suck-ups until I lost. They stink too.”

“You sure catch on quick kid,” Lance laughs, shaking the sand off his hand and patting Blue on the back. “Don’t let them get to you so soon though. With your skill they won’t be letting you off the leash any time soon I’m sure.”

Blue flinches.

“Is the cold getting to you? Altaria, come give him another hug--”

“They kicked me from the league.”

Lance gapes at him.

“What..? There’s no way…” He pauses, thoughts racing. Blue is strong and popular, they would only be losing out by casting him away. “Are they clinging to Agatha so her family won’t start trouble? It doesn’t really sound like a call the council would make, but what else..?”

Blue grunts, muffled by Altaria’s feathers again. Pidgeot has joined them, posture relaxed for once but with a lingering air of concern, eyes fixed on the mass of feathers wrapped around its trainer.

“Was probably Red.”

Lance runs a hand through his hair again, feeling stray grains of sand scattering against his scalp. Another nuisance to deal with when he returns.   
Running away to hide on Mt. Silver is starting to sound more appealing by the minute.

“Is that why you were leaving the Plateau? Are you headed back to Pallet?”

The feathers shuffle slightly.

“Oh uh, yeah. Yeah…”

Lance frowns, staring up at the sky as he contemplates. He’s jealous, but the kid probably wouldn’t take it well if he admitted as much. He would think of it as false sympathy if anything and the waterworks would start all over again. Champion status is the dream of every child and teen these days, the goal that drives even aged trainers to train daily in pursuit of strength. To finally achieved his goal, only to have it taken away so abruptly...   
No doubt being known for the shortest tenure to date will burden him with shame for months if not years on top of that. It would be wrong to turn the pity onto himself.

“It’s my birthday today,” Blue mumbles. “Worst present I could get.”

He grimaces. Of course it only gets worse…

“You can still see your family though, right? I’m sure they’ll have something nice planned for you. Something to help take your mind off things.”

More shuffling of feathers. Altaria chirps, head cocked in confusion.

“Oh… No… Gramps is celebrating with Red at the Plateau… Dunno where Daisy is these days.”

“Daisy..? What about your parents?”

“S’my sister…”

There’s a tremor in Blue’s voice and his breathing is growing louder and erratic again. Lance motions for Altaria to step back and, as he feared, he sees tears forming in the kid’s downcast eyes again.

“... Parents are dead, so...”

He wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him awkwardly into a side-hug as the sobs return in full force. Blue grips at Lance’s cape clumsily, shoulders shaking as he cries. Both Pokemon are growing agitated, clearly intent on closing in before a slow shake of Lance’s head stills them. Altaria instead starts humming softly, a slow rhythm that Lance matches as he strokes Blue’s hair. 

He can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t just make the situation worse.

Altaria keeps the silence at bay.

\---

Blue ends up flying off to Pallet town as he first planned despite Lance’s insisting that he stay at the Plateau for the night. It felt irresponsible to send the boy back to an empty house, but perhaps it was for the best. Red was the root of the problems he was facing and his Pokemon would likely make for better company than Lance anyway. The kid would know how to reach him if he needed anything anyway, and his grandfather should be returning to Pallet soon enough. He made sure to embarrass Blue by singing happy birthday before he sent him off, a snarky retort finally putting him at ease.

They’re alone on the sand again, Lance mindlessly stroking Altaria’s wings as the Pokemon sings. It’s too cold and dark to linger much longer but the thought of returning to the Plateau troubles him even more so than before. He should have brought the rest of his Pokemon along with him…   
He could try getting a message to Lorelei maybe, but she would probably chew him out for leaving without saying anything first. Bruno wouldn’t cooperate, but maybe Will would..? He apparently has an easy enough time getting around the place thanks to his association with Bruno. Lance hadn’t spoken to him before though, there was no telling if he would be willing to assist him.

He grins to himself as he shakes his head. Would Will be… Willing? 

Professor Oak was probably his best bet--he already knew about Lance’s desire to quit and there was no risk of him feeling betrayed. His status gave him free reign to explore the whole place so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to get into Lance’s room.

Altaria had stopped singing again.

“Johto or Kanto, or maybe a different region entirely” He muses, filling the silence himself. “Do you have any preferences, hm? We could hide out by the Lake of Rage, I know someone around there that could take us in for a while. Where should we go?”

“The Plateau.”

Lance startles, snapping his attention to the source of the voice. He grimaces, wondering how he hadn’t noticed the firelight illuminating the dark before now. Irritation rises within him.

“I do hope you’re calling me to sign my resignation and not-”

“No,” Red cuts him off, tone flat and cold. “You are fourth. Return.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to resume stroking Altaria’s feathers.

“Don’t try bossing me around, kid. It’s past your bedtime anyway, run along.”

It’s silent for a while, but Lance knows better than to assume Red had left as he said. It’s not new for people to ignore everything he says. Blue had just brushed him off too in the end. Weren’t kids supposed to listen to adults, to respect their elders?   
To think he would be complaining about such things at his age… 

Regardless, years of meditating in a damp cave had taught him more than enough patience to outdo a 10 year old. So he waits…

And he waits…

Flickering orange light is still reflecting on the water’s surface.

He waits…

He hears the shuffling of sand, but it grows closer rather than further away. Otherwise the silence persists.

He waits…

“Lance.”

He shakes his head in response. Is he going to have to spell it out for the kid? Young is one thing, but is he stupid too..? Damned kid--

His head is yanked back, a hand gripped into his hair and void-black eyes boring into him. For once there’s a hint of emotion in his face, faint tells of the anger rising in the boy. It felt like a small victory, but the strain against his scalp barred any revelry. Altaria recoils under his hand, a gratingly high-pitched warning call echoing around them. Red ignores it, gaze set and intense on Lance.

“Enough. I hold the power now, so know your place and obey,” the boy hisses, grip tightening further. “You will listen if you know what is good for you.”

Altaria lunges, beak snapping towards Red’s face. Lance reacts quickly, yanking his head forward to pull Red out of Altaria’s line of attack. It’s worryingly easy to support Red as he stumbles against his back, even for a child… Is he underweight..? More tugging at his hair brings a grimace back to his face and he casts his worries aside as quickly as they came.

“Idiot kid, what do you think you’re doing? You think my Pokemon is going to sit quiet while you grab me? Let go already!”

Snapping teeth. 

Hissing and the crackling of fire.

Altaria cries again but this time it’s pained.

The grip on his hair twists as his face is pushed down into the sand. A knee is braced against his back.

“Don’t move.”

Altaria squawks, panicked. 

The pressure on his back is building. 

The sand is glowing orange under intensifying firelight.

Dread twists within him.

He nods.


	4. Chapter 4

Lance is back at his desk the next day, and by the following week it feels as though nothing has changed. 

Paperwork is piled high as usual, but it’s mostly fan letters and interview requests of late. An occasional complaint form shows up, almost exclusively from trainers complaining about Viridian city’s vacant gym keeping them from challenging the league… From challenging Red. The council had considered Warren as a replacement for Giovanni, but he had disappeared shortly after being dismissed from the Elite Four. The remaining gym trainers are refusing to reply to the letters he has to send out but he can hardly blame them. They were cast aside for such a frivolous reason...

But Viridian city is hardly the last of their problems. Lorelei and Agatha have both disappeared, the former following claims that remnants of Team Rocket are attempting to occupy her hometown. Agatha… Nobody knows. Maybe Will had been right with his… ‘Sight’. Her family hadn’t confirmed or denied anything as of yet.  
Will had secured the spot of first almost immediately, having Bruno to vouch for him no doubt helping matters along. The psychic type is still infamous across Kanto for its formidable power too, skilled specialists appearing throughout its history as heroes. Perhaps less-so in Will’s home region of Johto, but given that most of the council hail from Kanto, his type of choice could also have contributed.

He hopes it wasn’t down to the irritatingly theatrical, arrogant personality… He wasn’t opposed to humour and playfulness but Will consistently takes things too far, and there’s almost always a malicious undertone. He has yet to defeat Lance in battle, yet he parades his strength in his face all the same.

… He misses Lorelei. It feels wrong for her to be replaced by someone so childish and tactless. How in the world Bruno managed to put up with Will was beyond him.

Their main issue is the spot of third. At times the position is occupied by Fuchsia city’s previous gym leader, Koga. He rotates his duty with Karen, a newcomer dark-type specialist, taking the opportunity to assist his daughter with running Fuchsia gym.   
Karen is… Interesting. Aloof, somewhat cold and distant… Yet always knows exactly what to say. Insightful. It seems the council favours her over Koga despite his track record as gym leader and previous service to Kanto--the dark type is still uncommon in Kanto, and provides a strong follow-up to Will and Bruno’s teams.  
Koga is more versatile and consistent however, blocking trainers from proceeding far more often than Karen does. While her team is powerful, their defences are lacklustre and they fall quickly without a weakness to exploit. Dark types may be rare, but an abundance and thorough understanding of poison types is hardly a drawback.  
Of course the history he has with Koga adds to his preference, he finds it much easier to trust him over Karen. His recommendation doesn’t appear to carry the same clout that Bruno’s does however. There was no sign of a decision being made any time soon, unfortunately for him. He could do with friendly company now more than ever.

Maybe the council feel threatened by Bruno’s size and power... Lance should try working out more often to test the theory. If only he could get away from this accursed desk long enough to try. This was supposed to be Red’s responsibility anyway…

He shakes his head. This isn’t a train of thought worth pursuing.

He signs another delivery confirmation, folding the paper carefully before shuffling it into an envelope. He sighs as he pulls the next sheet from the pile.

“Troubled?”

Lance jumps up, knocking his knees against the desk and sending papers flying as he spins around. He hisses, rolling his eyes as he bends to rub his knees.

“How in the world do you pull these stunts off, Koga?”

“Ninja.”

“That explains nothing, how did you get in without me seeing you? The door is right in front of my desk,” He glares, but the crinkle of joy around the other man’s eyes settles him. “There aren’t any windows in here either!”

Koga simply points up at the ceiling, nodding slowly. One of the panels is pushed aside, revealing a space that he couldn’t imagine himself being able to fit into.

“Exercise,” Koga seems to read his mind, narrowing his eyes at Lance’s stomach.

“There’s hardly anything here to lose,” he grumbles, looking down at his stomach as he straightens his shirt, patting confidently. “You think I have time for more exercise with all this work piling up?”

When he looks up, Koga is gone. The ceiling panel is back in place, and it’s as if the man was never there to begin with. 

He sighs, resigned. Koga and his mysterious ways… Even after the years they’d spent working together, supporting and confiding in each other during their roughest hours, he struggled to comprehend him. Koga certainly encapsulates the charms and oddities of shinobi, decades past the prime of the practice. He remembers mention of his daughter and gym trainers taking an interest in ninjutsu… Was Koga running a secret school?  
Shaking his head, he collects the papers scattered on the floor before returning to his seat to resume reading.

A request for a new lab to be built in the Johto region… In the name of a Professor Elm and endorsed by Professor Oak… The request has been approved by the council already, offering to cover half of the total construction costs…   
Hopefully this lab would be built with longevity in mind. The burning of the lab on the outskirts of Violet city had been a tragedy, owed in large part to the age of the building, that had cost the council significantly. If he remembered right a new research facility had been built on the same site following the purchase of land rights by an archaeological society. Cynthia had raved about it during her last visit, utterly enthralled with the Ruins of Alph and babbling nonsense about ancient deities and mythical scripts. Truly the champion of Sinnoh.

All that’s left is for him to sign the bottom of the request before it can be sent off, a formality that still made no sense to him. He wasn’t exactly in a position to complain though, nor did he have anyone to complain to.

“Pay attention.”

He flinches, legs twitching as he resists the urge to jump up again. He rests his forehead in his hand, scowling halfheartedly down at the desk.

“Damn it Koga...”

A deep laugh resounds through the room, a rarity that instantly brings a smile to Lance’s face. He really should have predicted as much, it would be strange for Koga to appear in the office for no reason. He was too used to Red checking in…

His smile falters, a wave of tiredness hitting him suddenly. The laughter tapers off, and a hand rests on his head.

“Enough.”

Lance sighs, looking up to meet the older man’s gaze. Koga looks about as tired as Lance feels, the shadows beneath his eyes starker than usual. It’s no wonder, he knows well enough that Koga rarely sleeps, and only ever for short periods. League work and supporting his daughter on top of whatever else he gets up to must be exhausting. Lance on the other hand… He just sits at a desk all day, battling the rare trainer that manages to get through the first three Elite Four members. There isn’t anything to be tired over, not really… Just Red.

The furrow of Koga’s brow deepens.

“The boy… Troubles you.”

Lance chews his lower lip, staring down at the desk. He rocks the pen between his fingers, tapping it against the desk in an irregular rhythm. How come everyone is able to read him so easily?

“Something like that, yeah,” He whispers, his energy continuing to drop. “It’s shameful, being troubled by a child like this. How times change...”

He catches Koga’s gaze again and they remain silent for a while. An easy silence, without tension or worry. Pleasant.

“Candle in hand...” Koga begins, breaking the silence as he closes his eyes in thought. “Garden strolling, they lament…”

A long pause. 

An old memory resurfaces. Deep greens and blues at dawn, tweets and chirps… The simple joy of nature untouched by conflict… An old man with a lantern...

“... The passing of spring” Lance finishes. 

Walking through Ilex forest with Koga, regrets weighing heavy on his mind… The end of their ‘golden years’... Bittersweet...

Koga nods, and Lance rises from his seat slowly. They leave the office behind and walk side-by-side in silence.

\---

“Lance.”

It doesn’t take long for Red to track him down. 

They had settled on walking among the flowers encircling the Plateau, the only natural area with no risks of pursuit by a search party. Lance’s last attempt at wandering hadn’t ended very well, another trip to Route 23 at the end of a particularly long day. The same place Red had found him last time, yet the guards were sent and the council involved regardless. A lesson learned quickly. His leash is short.

Koga bows, greeting Red politely. The boy’s signature silence follows, expressionless eyes trained on Lance. Nobody speaks, an uncomfortable tension rising between them. Koga rests a hand on Lance’s shoulder, a reassurance and farewell in one motion. He’s gone the next moment, leaving him to face the champion alone.

“Your work isn’t finished.”

When is work ever finished? Maybe if you did it yourself like you’re supposed to. What does it matter to you anyway? I want to leave already. Get away from me. Why do you hound me like this? What did I ever do to you?

“I’m sorry, I’ll return immediately.”

He doesn’t move, because he can tell that Red isn’t finished and the most recent bruises across his wrist have yet to fade.

“Koga also has work to do. He is not here to entertain you.”

“You’re right... I’m sorry, I won’t-”

“Sign this” he cuts Lance off, extending a sheet of paper towards him. He nods, watching the boy wearily as he accepts it.

“Go.”

He obeys.

Nobody speaks to him en route to his office, staff and stragglers in the main lobby turning their attention to Red immediately. He’s not sure if he’s happy about that.  
The halls are empty, his hurried footsteps the only sound amidst silence. The hallways feel like they’re growing colder as he draws closer to his office... Is it just his imagination? Anxiety tricking his mind? He shakes his head, looking down at the paper in his hand as he turns the corner leading onto his office hallway. 

He stops dead.

A dismissal letter. 

The council is dismissing Koga?

Poor performance and unprofessional behaviour… Poor work ethic? Koga, the first to arrive and the last to leave? Koga, the most sincere stickler for rules and traditions in the League? There must be a mistake...

There aren’t any examples listed for any of the accusations… Is this just to secure Karen as third? There hadn’t been any indication that the decision was making any headway at all so it couldn’t be. It’s too sudden.

He narrows his eyes, suspicious. He knows from experience that the council never holds back with procedures like this. If anything they put too much detail into warnings and dismissals, listing even the most trivial of mistakes. How they knew about some of the things he had read was beyond him. This wasn’t remotely in line with their usual work.

No… It isn’t the council. Red is dismissing Koga. He must have noticed them speaking at some point. But when? Why?

“This is absurd…”

“Walk.”

Lance shivers and continues walking, legs stiff and stomach twisting. He thought Red had stayed behind in the lobby, but evidently such wishful thinking was misguided.   
He must have known Lance would be reluctant when he realised what he was holding.

Utterly absurd…

Red catches the door before Lance can close it behind him, following him into the office. He returns to his seat, setting the paper onto the desk and staring at it motionlessly. He scans the contents over again.

“... This seems unreasonable,” He finally speaks up but doesn’t meet Red’s eyes. “There aren’t any specifics given, no proof of the accusations--”

“Are you questioning me?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t make a move to pick up the pen either.

“Sign it.”

His silence persists.

Lance lifts his gaze. He can see the beginnings of irritation on Red’s face. He shouldn’t be testing his luck, especially without Pokemon to back him up. Red’s belt is full as always...

“... Why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Red’s lip curls, eyes narrow as disgust floods his face. Lance recoils, swallowing hard.

“Are you really so stupid?” his voice is lower than usual, tone dark as he steps towards the desk. 

His breath catches, throat numb. Squeezing.

“For a famed champion there really is not a single redeeming quality about you. You were good at crushing people and Pokemon years ago, is that the only reason you stayed at the top?”

“What--” he rasps, voice sounding distant to his own ears. “My past has nothing to do with you or any of this--”

Red’s eyes grow darker, shadows extending below his brow as he looks down at him.

“My father is dead because of you and your little friends but you act so carefree anyway, like you did nothing wrong. You deserve punishment.”

He clams up, eyes darting around the room in a panic. Red is directly in front of the desk now, leaning closer as he speaks. His hand darts out and grips Lance’s wrist in a vice grip that has become too familiar. It stings.

He needs to… Breathe… 

“Did you forgot? Did you think your actions would be forgotten when the treaties were signed? Drowned out by the praise and celebration? Should I call for Johto to be crushed again so you can experience it too? Your little family in Blackthorn… They got lucky last time. Will they be so lucky a second time?”

An eerie smirk.

Lance’s vision starts to swim at the edges, an ache building in his chest--

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a kid.”

Scratching pain in his wrist. Nails pressing into his skin again. The smirk disappears and they stare blankly at each other through unnerving silence. Red looks at him pitifully.

“None of you understand. You all think my Pokemon did the work,” Red murmurs, fingernails digging deeper. 

He feels the skin break, but the digging continues.

“I’m the one that took down Team Rocket. I gave the orders and they bled because of me. Do you think I beat their Pokemon and moved on to the next person? Team Rocket was a crime syndicate, Lance. If I left them alive and conscious I would be dead right now. I know exactly what I’m talking about. Do not mock me.”

He releases his grip on Lance’s wrist, leaning across the desk until they’re mere inches apart. The smirk grows, eyes alight with glee. Lance doesn’t dare move.

“You know, I heard so many things about you while I was travelling, Lance. At first it was annoying, listening to bitter old men complaining endlessly. But I heard something… Something very interesting while passing through Lavender town…”

“Enough. Stop talking” Lance croaks.

“That idiot… Blue…” Red whispers, undeterred. “Do you remember watching his parents die?”

He lunges, pain flaring through his legs as he collides with his desk. Fists balling thin fabric and lifting, pulling Red into the air.

His arms are shaking but his panic provides strength. Throw? Squeeze? What--

This is just a child what is he thinking--

“Do you want to kill me, Lance?”

There’s no fear in Red’s face. Just arrogance and glee. Is this what Red had been aiming for..?

“Did you have fun too? Ending them.”

Release. Red falls.

“No.”

Lance leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Enough.


End file.
